


Petrichor

by theclaravoyant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Camping, Early Relationship, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, MCUBingo, Road Trip, early established relationship, first I love you, prompt: rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 07:59:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15238932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/pseuds/theclaravoyant
Summary: It's her first weekend away alone with Bobbi, and Jemma has planned a romantic camping/hiking trip for the two of them. Unfortunately for her, the timing couldn't be worse.There's a storm coming.Literally.





	Petrichor

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for my [@mcubingo](www.mcubingo.com) square "Simmorse >> Rain", and for the Anon who helpfully gave me the idea for this square: "One of them plans a romantic camping trip only to have the weather trash the plan once they're already out in the woods." I'm still accepting other prompts (here or @theclaravoyant on tumblr), but am prioritising those that will help me fill my [bingo squares](http://theclaravoyant.tumblr.com/post/174958815476/prompt-me-mcubingo-edition).
> 
> Rated T for the mild, fluffy problems we wish they could have.
> 
> Petrichor means, the smell of dust after rain.

Jemma had to admit, she’d had her doubts while driving out here, watching sad grey rainclouds weigh the forest down. It wasn’t that she hated the rain: she recognised its life-giving qualities and was the first in line to sing the praises of an evening of rest in a cozy space of one’s own, listening to nature’s beauty. There was much she loved about the rain. A weekend of camping outside and hiking in it, however – and that being her first weekend alone together with Bobbi, no less – now, that was where her hesitation lay. 

Fortunately, all had gone well so far. The air still had a chilly bite to it, but tending to their campfire together, even rugged up as they were, was quite therapeutic, and it was not as though they were lacking in conversation topics, or other ideas with which two lovers might entertain themselves, when the occasional drizzle did drive them back into their tent. In fact, in this moment – breathing in all the fresh scents of the forest, the whole world shining with droplets in the peace between rains - Jemma would almost go so far as to call the weather a blessing. In what other circumstances would a place so beautiful be left so privately to them? How else would she and Bobbi have this trail, possibly even this entire mountainside, all to themselves? She couldn’t wait to see their destination – Passions Pool; no doubt a popular destination for honeymooners and the like – in all its uninterrupted glory. If a little mist of rain was the price she had to pay for the privilege, she would gladly do so. Which was good, because the rain was back again. 

From up ahead of Jemma, Bobbi laughed.

“Next time I think we’re going to have to spring for gold label,” she remarked. “Get Coulson to let us come back in summer and have a proper swim, hm?”

“What?” Jemma teased, though the thought of swimming in this cold made her bones ache. “You think it’s too cold to swim? Pfft! You call yourself a spy!” 

“Oh, I _could_ swim in this if I wanted to,” Bobbi retorted, and stuck her chin up, bragging a little, “it’s just, the last time I swam in this weather, it was either that or cut off a toe. And believe me, I had to think about it.” 

Jemma laughed, and rolled her eyes, but before she could think of the next thing to say, she found herself walking straight into Bobbi’s pack. She blustered to a halt, wondering why Bobbi had stopped; they couldn’t be there already, she was sure. 

“Oh, shit,” Bobbi cursed.

“Come on,” Jemma waved her off. “I’m not going to make you swim. I brought a picnic. I even found that cranberry salad thing you-“ 

“No, babe,” Bobbi interrupted, pulling Jemma by the wrist up onto the track beside her, at the top of the hill. “I meant that.” 

“Oh. Shit.” 

The land fell away before them, covered in thick forest, near-pristine wilderness all around for miles. In the distance a bird was returning to its nest, and here and there, rocks or shining water broke up the blanket of green. It would have been positively breathtaking, if not for the turbid grey cloud looming over it all, sailing ever closer; like a shadow, inescapable. Beneath it, rain fell in a torrent so thick it seemed to consume the forest. It would scarcely stumble over doing the same to them. 

“We need to get back to the tent,” Jemma admitted, though she screwed up her face and watched the storm in profound disappointment, briefly longing against all logic to simply will it into retreating, or at least pausing its onslaught for the rest of the afternoon. 

“Look at the size of it, Jemma,” Bobbi pointed out. “I think we should get back to the _car.”_

“No, I…” Jemma trailed off. She had no argument to bring to bear; nothing but the dream of a perfect weekend, to which she’d been clinging all this while. Nature was a powerful force, and her plans were naught in the face of it. She sighed, and turned back the way she had come. Though the track was narrow, Bobbi kept up, and put a hand on her shoulder briefly. 

“I’m sorry babe,” Bobbi offered. “I just don’t think this weekend was meant to be. We’ve still got some leave though, right? Why don’t we pack it up, head into town? I’m sure we could find a place.” 

 _A place._ Jemma tried to swallow her disappointment. It wasn’t supposed to be just _a place,_ if all she’d wanted was _a place_ they could have gone to a nice hotel in the nearest city to base, maybe bought a spa day, lived on room service. That sounded nice. But she had chosen _this_ place, _this_ trip specifically. She had wanted to get _outside,_ really and truly outside. She had wanted to see the wildlife and the scenery in _this_ place. She had been imagining herself and Bobbi walking amongst these glorious trees, admiring the birds, stargazing together in near-unpolluted skies; all manner of away-from-it-all fantasies for months. Literally, months. It had taken her that long to get the leave, with disaster after disaster being thrown at them, and she couldn’t bear the thought that a little rain was going to take it all away. Even if it was actually a lot of rain. But she couldn’t explain all that without sounding like a stroppy child, so instead she stammered - 

“Just- Just don’t slip, okay?”

The rain was getting heavier around them, the storm already well on its way. The dream was dead. She gritted her teeth and pulled away from Bobbi, marching on ahead with the excuse of packing up their things before the worst of it hit. 

“Jemma, wait!” Bobbi called, and jogged after her. “I didn’t mean we should just give up- I mean I did- but not… like that…” 

Bobbi trailed off. The terrain was becoming increasingly treacherous and rain saturated her clothes, her pack, her hair. With the steep downward slope on top of it all, she had no choice but to focus on the slippery ground or risk falling, and with thick sheets of rain between them she wouldn’t have been surprised if Jemma had disappeared from sight by now anyway. Gritting her teeth, she picked her way slowly forward, thinking. She could imagine the frustration Jemma was dealing with at her plans finally being rained out beyond saving, but more than that, she couldn’t bear the thought of Jemma believing she was disappointed, or that she’d simply been waiting for an out. Was that the impression she’d just given? Or, perhaps, had she indicated she would have preferred to spend the time in a hotel, being pampered? Pampering was nice, but this – ancient redwoods, nature’s beauty, and a level of privacy Bobbi hadn’t experienced in years – this was unbeatable. Why was she so terrible at expressing things like that? Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself as fast as she dared, desperate to catch up and clarify things before they spiraled into disaster. 

Perhaps a little too desperate, in fact, as Jemma had stopped and Bobbi hadn’t noticed until she was practically upon her. Startled, Jemma jumped, turned and slipped. She lost her footing on the side of the track and fell with a strangled yelp. Bobbi reached out to try and catch her, and that only made things worse as her heel slipped and her knee buckled and she fell too. For a few seconds, the two of them were a tangle of limbs in a miniature mudslide of their own making, but fortunately, even then, they only managed to fall a few feet down the slope before they tumbled apart and flattened themselves against the earth.

Feeling herself flung away from Bobbi, Jemma thrust her hands into the dirt. She looked up, struggling to see through the rain, and spitting water and loam as she climbed back up to Bobbi’s side. Bobbi was lying prone, hissing through her teeth, clearly in pain. Jemma’s heart plummeted.

“Bobbi?” she asked, almost shouting over the sound of the rain, and praying it was just the momentary shock of the fall that had shaken her, and not a serious head or back injury. “Are you alright? Did you hit your head?”

“It’s my knee,” Bobbi told her, fortunately able to sit up after a moment, if gingerly, and examine her own injury. “My bad knee. Must have twisted it or something. It’s not serious. We should keep moving. I’ll look at it when we get back.” 

“Right, okay. Come on.”

It was slow going after that. The rain pounded down and evening deepend around them, but Jemma stayed by Bobbi’s side, limping slowly through the wilderness. She let Bobbi focus on nothing but moving forward, keeping her eyes on the light at the end of the tunnel; on all the things they would do when they got to that hotel in town. A warm bath. A nice hot burger with chips. Thick, warm dressing gowns. It was a long time before Bobbi realised Jemma wasn’t leading her back to the tent. 

“Jems,” she objected. “This is a road. We’re out of the camp, what are you doing?” 

“If our tent’s still around, we’ll find it tomorrow,” Jemma explained. “This is safer, better for your knee. Besides, there’s more likely to be a building of some sort this way, where we can get proper shelter and wait this thing out. You keep walking. I’ll scout ahead.” 

Jemma gave Bobbi a brief kiss, and then disappeared into the rain and the darkening sky. This time, Bobbi was not stricken by a panicked need to follow. Instead, she caught herself smiling at the thought of how close the words _I love you_ had come to spilling across her lips. She stood a little taller and walked on. 

- 

Soon enough, Jemma was running back down the road to Bobbi, announcing in a flurry that she had found a holiday inn not much further down the road and had already booked them in for the night. It was no five-star hotel, she qualified, but a compromise she hoped Bobbi could accept. More than that, of course, the news was music to Bobbi’s ears, which Bobbi went out of her way to impress upon Jemma. Yet darkness had well and truly fallen by the time they staggered into reception. As the innkeeper, Barry, asked his staff to fetch towels and discussed rooms and payment with Jemma, Bobbi looked around at the adorable woodland décor and still-lifes of canoes and decided she would like nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep on the warm, dry wooden floor. But she was determined to keep her guard up, for just a little longer. 

“You ladies look a right mess, if you don’t mind me sayin’,” Barry remarked; somewhat incredulous and, if Bobbi was not mistaken, a little impressed. “You were up the mountain in this?”

“You know what they say about courage and stupidity,” Bobbi replied, easing herself into a seat and trying not to wince at the whole different kind of pain that flooded through her leg at the motion. Jemma was fussing over her, but Bobbi waved her away.

“What brings you out here this time of year, then?” Barry wondered. “Not exactly hiking season.”

“It was the only time we could get off work,” Jemma explained. “I just wanted to try something a little different, you know. I didn’t think it would be that bad. Thought it would be romantic." 

She laughed at herself and rolled her eyes as she signed them in, and Barry huffed quietly to himself. 

“Romantic? And you asked for the cheapest room?” He gave Jemma an exaggerated look of shock, plucked the key he’d given her out of her hand, and then eyed Bobbi as if she was in on the joke. “Where’d you catch this one? Tsk tsk. No, that won’t do at all, ladies. I have something much better for a _romantic_ weekend away.” 

He reached for a different set of keys, and a brochure. Jemma blanched. 

“Oh, no, I’m afraid we really can’t pay-“ she promised, but Barry waved her off. 

“No extra cost. Like I said, it’s not the season down here. We’re practically empty. You’ll still have to pay the amenities, of course – I’m not made of money – but we’ve got some wiggle room in regards to the accommodation. Plus, in your state, I think you’ll appreciate the, uh, private facilities. Come on with me.”

Barry led the way out of the reception cabin, and Jemma turned and pulled a face to Bobbi that said something along the lines of _well, isn’t this fancy?_ With her knee burning, her clothes drenched and muddied, and her skin feeling like it was going to be cold to the touch forever, Bobbi was grateful for Jemma’s good humour. She pulled herself up and put one foot in front of the other, chasing that relentless warmth across the site. 

“… windows to the west, sometimes you can see the deer grazing in the morning,” Barry was saying to Jemma as Bobbi finally approached their designated cabin. He smiled at her, and waved Bobbi over. “You alright with that knee there?” 

“Yes, thanks. Just an old injury. Field hockey’s a violent sport.” Bobbi explained. 

“Don’t I know it?” Barry chuckled, and finally handed over the key. “If you need anything, let me know – details are in that folder there. Otherwise, I’ll leave you ladies to get acquainted. Y’all have a good night.”

They thanked him and made their farewells, and then wasted no more time before pushing into the cabin. As they wandered in, the two of them stared about in awe, their energies momentarily replenished as all expectations were blown away. There was a cozy lounge with a large television and a log fire, and stacks of books and magazines. The kitchen was simple but adorable and Jemma hurried to turn the kettle on, and peek out the window overlooking what Barry had promised was a frequent deer grazing ground. Bobbi quickly found the bed and dropped herself onto it, hardly having the energy to spare a thought for the mud and muck she’d just walked in. She closed her eyes, relishing the way the soft, cushioned blanket cradled her aching body. A few moments later, Jemma stuck her head in through the bedroom door, and smiled at Bobbi’s spread-eagle state.

“You saving room for me on there or what?”

Bobbi huffed, frankly reluctant to lift any of her limbs ever again. She was still hungry, dirty, and cold, but she’d live with that if she had to. Jemma sat down on the bed anyway, and pulled off each of her shoes with a huff and a moan of relief.

“Hey,” she wondered, peering at the one door in the place they had not investigated yet. “What do you think he meant by ‘private facilities’?”

Bobbi stared at the ceiling, not willing to commit to lifting her head to follow Jemma’s gaze. “I don’t know.” 

Unable to resist this final curiosity, Jemma padded over to the door and slowly pushed it open. On the other side was a rustic but luxurious bathroom. This being the lover’s cabin, it had some special extras in amongst the usual amenities, which made Jemma smile, but her eye was quickly taken by the feature of the room: an enormous, deep, positively luxurious standalone bathtub. She ran to it, knelt by it and ran the tap, and the hot water seared against her rain-soaked skin. The stress that had been piling up inside her all day bubbled out in another laugh, and she ran her hands under the water until they started to feel normal again.

“Bobbi, get in here!” she cried. 

“Why?” Bobbi called back. “Unless it’s a hot dinner or a hot shower I really don’t –“ 

Jemma stepped back into the bedroom and threw another towel at Bobbi. She showed off her heat-reddened hands and watched Bobbi’s jaw drop. 

“I can do you one better on the shower,” Jemma promised. “As for the dinner, I don’t know about hot, but I do still have the picnic stuff and I’m sure most of it will have survived.”

“That sounds fantastic.” 

“How would you feel about eating cranberry salad in the tub?” 

“Amazing,” Bobbi groaned. “God, I love you.” 

Jemma grinned as Bobbi hauled herself to her feet one final time, swanned across the room with more grace than anyone with such an injury flare had any right to, and gave her a rakish smile and a dizzying, muddy, rain-tinted kiss.

“I love you too,” she said.


End file.
